


Two Weeks

by mautadite



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Future Fic, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:43:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mautadite/pseuds/mautadite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knows why the political meetings between the Princess of Dorne and the Lady Reaper of the Iron Islands are always so long, but the alliance between the two kingdoms is certainly thriving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ASOIAF kink meme. Prompt as seen in summary. I wrote this with the FKA twigs song [of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yDP9MKVhZc) on repeat in the background, little though it might have to do with anything. (nsfw lyrics at link.)

Arianne is shrugging out of her robes for an afternoon nap when the presence comes up behind her, slips a hand over her mouth. She starts to laugh, and feels an answering one puffing warm against her ear.

She rings a bell, and when a servant appears, not so much as batting an eyelid at what she sees, Arianne gives orders not to be disturbed.

“Daemon will be very miffed if you continue to slip past him and his guards like this,” she says when the girl is gone and Asha starts kissing down her neck. Pressing back against her, she can feel the rough material of Asha’s breeches, the leather in her shirt. She feels like weeks of hard travel, like she had come to Arianne’s quarters straight from the salty sea.

“You can tell Daemon that I am miffed that he makes it so easy. My most formidable ally should be better protected.” Asha drawls the words, making them into a caress that curls over her shoulder, coaxes the silk of her sheer gown off of her skin.

“You should fuck him one day,” Arianne suggests, standing pliable as Asha moves them towards the long looking glass. The Lady Reaper of the Isles is all dark and shadow today, but Arianne would know that jaw under the hood anywhere, the aquiline nose that grazes along her throat. “Work out some of this silly tension.”

“Perhaps.” Asha works her gown down to her waist and cups her breasts in her tanned hands, flicking her thumbs over her pebbled nipples. Arianne shivers pleasurably.

“And I can watch.”

A dark laugh tickles her ear again.

“I would like that. But now you’re thinking about Sand too much.” Asha throws back her hood, baring her cropped hair and sharp smile to the warm light of Arianne’s chambers. They kiss, and Asha is rough and slow, teasing her with little nips at her lips while her fingers pinch Arianne’s nipples.

“It _has_ been a while, my lady.” Arianne tries to turn in her arms, but Asha doesn’t let her. The pins in her hair are pulled out one by one, and she feels and sees the tresses hitting her shoulders and the small of her back. “I didn’t expect to see you this soon. The queen’s council meeting is still days away.”

“I found that I had the time.” Asha tilts Arianne’s head back for another kiss, holding her loosely by the throat. “Much can happen in a few days; I may even be of a mood for your greenlander politics by then.”

Softly laughing, Arianne takes one of her hands, draws it down between her legs so Asha can feel how wet she is. Little pinpricks of arousal are working over her skin like smoke. Asha smiles. She looks at Arianne in the mirror as she fucks her briefly with two fingers, then brings the digits up for Arianne to lick away the moisture. The tips of her fingers are firm with calluses, and Arianne sucks them all gently.

This time, when Arianne tries to turn in her arms again, Asha lets her, pulling her up against her body to kiss her again, and then release her. Arianne strolls to her bed, stripping off the rest of her gown, letting her body breathe in the warm air, the anticipation of a pleasant afternoon ahead of her. She reclines against her silks.

Asha is standing at the table in the centre of the room, sampling wines as she leisurely unbuttons her shirt.

“You wouldn’t have any Arbor gold, would you?”

“Careful,” Arianne warns, sighing as she touches herself lightly. “Daemon can sense a blasphemy like that a league away.”

She even laughs like a pirate, crass and throaty, and throws back the rest of her glass. The dirk that she likes to call her babe is slipped out of the space between her breasts, tossed onto a low chaise. 

“Daemon, Daemon, Daemon. I’m going to fuck that name right off of your lips, Princess.”

“You’ll need to come over here to do that,” Arianne says, spreading her legs in invitation, letting Asha see how she draws her thumb across her clitoris, making it harder. “And take off those clothes.”

“In time.” She saunters over to one of Arianne’s chests, and finds what she’s looking for quite easily. Her boots and breeches are doffed and toed aside, but she keeps on her knee-length smallclothes as she steps into the harness, then attaches the phallus. The back of Arianne’s throat goes dry, and she thumbs at herself quicker.

When Arianne thinks that Asha will finally come over to the bed, she disappoints her, making a stop at the table to pour herself another splash of wine, eat a bit of apple. The phallus juts out from between her legs, a smooth dark leather casing with a firmer core. Asha finds a bottle of scented oil, and drips some over it as she sips slowly at her wine.

“You are very thirsty today, my lady,” Arianne comments, slipping a finger inside herself. 

“Parched.” Asha licks her lips, and one side of her mouth kicks up in a smirk, baring a pointed incisor. “Open your legs wider.”

“I will when you come closer,” Arianne counters.

White teeth are flashed in a full grin, and Asha strips off her shirt and the bindings to her breasts, letting them fall to the floor. Only when she is close enough to touch does Arianne let her legs fall open at the knees. Asha chuckles, and climbs onto the bed, running her hands up and down Arianne’s solid thighs. Her eyes are locked between Arianne’s legs, making her cunt feel warm.

“I do love how quickly we come to terms, Princess.”

“If only all of my diplomatic meetings went like this,” Arianne purrs. Asha laughs again, and Arianne can smell the strong wine on her breath, see it where it sends a mild flush to her cheeks and breasts. Open-mouthed kisses fall like rain onto her knees, and from there travel an unwavering path up to her cunt.

Arianne sighs deeply, sinking into the soft embrace of her bed as Asha’s warm tongue laps over her. The pad of her tongue is rough over her most sensitive places. Two fingers keep her spread open for Asha’s mouth, for the kisses that make her belly tremble, for the little sucks that make the air she breathes seem electric. Her hand brushes the hair off of her lover’s forehead, and she sees that her eyes are closed. 

This is Arianne’s favourite thing to do in lovemaking, and not all of her bed mates enjoy doing it as much as Asha does. Arianne had asked her why once; Asha had made some quip about salt, and continued to eat her cunt out with gusto. The why of it is no matter, really; not when Asha is so _good_ at it, can make her reach her peak with nothing but her lips and fingers.

Not this afternoon. This afternoon, when Arianne starts to breathe in sharp little pants and tug harshly on Asha’s hair, the Iron Islander pulls away. She shushes Arianne’s moan of frustration with a kiss that tastes of wine and musk. Callused fingers cup her breasts, beat patterns on and around the soft curve of her stomach.

“Are you ready, Princess?” she murmurs.

“You ask such silly questions.”

Arianne squirms, reaching for a few pillows to lie upon so that her upper half is elevated, and she can observe as Asha spreads a few more drops of oil over her cock. One of her legs she spreads wide, and the other she stretches out, pointing her toes with a shiver. She’s very wet, and when Asha guides herself forward, she penetrates easily, with one smooth slide.

“Mmm,” Arianne moans, and grips Asha by the hips, pulling her in until the fabric of her smallclothes is flush with her skin. “Go slow,” she directs, and Asha complies, rolling her hips with measured movements that fill Arianne slowly. Asha keeps her hands on her thighs, keeps them well parted, and watches her cock move in and out of Arianne. Blunt nails press into her skin, holding her still as Asha rocks.

It’s a tight burn, a good stretch. Arianne curls a leg round the backs of Asha’s thighs, wanting her closer. Many things about Asha are blunt and harsh, but as a leader and a lover she is superb, patient when she needs to be, attentive always. Arianne rakes her nails up and down her spine with a light touch, feels the resultant jerk of Asha’s hips that makes her clench instinctively. Asha kisses her breast, the curve, the tip, the slope, sucking dark bloodspots into her skin, all while her hips piston and drive the cock deep inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh… that’s good.” Arianne shudders, her stomach feeling warm and sparking pleasantly. Asha tucks a curl of hair behind her ear.

“Do you want it harder?” she asks, and Arianne sucks in her bottom lip, nodding her assent.

Harder comes with faster, and Arianne doesn’t try to hold herself back, letting every moan and every gasp paint her lips. The straps of the harness slap against her skin with each thrust. Caresses that are somehow both soft and firm touch at her breasts and waist and throat, and Asha is a pillar of desire and strength above her. Her mouth hangs open slightly, curved up in that dark, dagger-like smile.

“I want to get on top of you,” Arianne pants, and Asha is quick to accommodate her. She eases out and lies on her back. Arianne climbs, legs shaking like trees in a sandstorm, until she’s positioned with one knee on either side of her lover. There’s a hand on either side of her waist, guiding her down slowly until she sinks onto the phallus, inch by glorious inch.

This is easily her second favourite way to fuck. She has more control this way, to rock up and down, fuck herself as hard as she wants to. She also has a good view, of Asha’s sweet small breasts and her pretty black eyes. Asha seems content to look at her, eyes fluttering closed sometimes when Arianne’s movements rock the base of the toy against her cunt, rubbing her through her smalls.

“Touch yourself,” Asha says with heat, and Arianne trails a hand down her chest to her nub of pleasure, rolling it between two fingers. Sweat trickles down her back and between her breasts, but there’s a warmth erupting in her body that nothing can cool. She rubs harder, biting her bottom lip as Asha fucks up into her, and comes gasping and clenching. 

Asha’s fingers are tight on her hips, encouraging her to ride out her climax on top of her. When she finally comes down from her high, Arianne climbs off, and her hand disappears into Asha’s smalls. It only takes a few minutes to bring her to completion, swallowing her shout with a deep, languid kiss. 

The heat settles like a layer of cloth above them, and it’s not long before it becomes too much for Asha. She kisses Arianne once on her lips and once on her chest before untangling herself from the bed and stripping down to bare skin. Arianne stretches, cat-like, watching her and admiring her toned legs and the muscles in her stomach.

At the table, Asha pours herself a glass of water and eats one of the sweet oranges. Her stance says that she’s aware of being observed and is very comfortable with it; when she turns she’s wearing that smile again. It pleases Arianne very much. Her thin, lined face is a shade away from being pretty, an amalgamation of Maiden and Warrior, but that smile is as old as the Crone.

“May I have a blood orange, please,” she says, gathering her hair and tying it in a knot at the top of her head. A gust of sea breeze blows in through the open window. Asha peels the fruit and brings it to her, sitting at the foot of the bed, one leg cocked up on the hope chest. It also pleases Arianne to see her so at ease in her chambers; she never attempts to don clothes or hide her beautiful body after lovemaking.

Arianne smiles, shaking her head as she eats.

“Four days early. What are you doing, Asha?”

“Taking what I can, as always.” She swallows a mouthful of water. Arianne cocks a brow shrewdly. 

“How long will you stay?”

“I have business further north, after Daenerys leaves, but I will be back to take my ships home. Two weeks in all, I think.”

The prospect gladdens Arianne’s heart; it is a long time for a seafaring woman to be on land, and she sees herself making good use of every moment that must not be dedicated to work. They are both very good diplomats in their own ways, and Arianne is glad they can always hammer out matters of the realm face to face, with cool heads. As for the rest…

“What shall we do in the time we have to ourselves?” she asks, and draws a finger over her nipple idly. Asha crawls up to steal a part of her orange, and grin. She kisses the breast that Arianne touches, and her mouth is sticky from the juice.

“I wager we shall think of something, Princess.”


End file.
